


faerie lights

by peachsneakers



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fae & Fairies, Fae Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, dukeceit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23404417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Dee knows he shouldn't go into the forest. He doesn't care.
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit Sanders
Comments: 12
Kudos: 230





	faerie lights

**Author's Note:**

> lyrics are from cosmo sheldrake "come along"

_We'll be here when the world slows down_   
_And the sunbeams fade away_   
_Keeping time by a pendulum_   
_As the fabric starts to fray_

Dee casts a furtive look over one shoulder, meandering closer and closer to the forest. He knows what the villagers will do if they catch him. A beating will be the least of his worries. The others are allowed to slip between the trees in search of flowers and whatever else tickles their fancy. But Dee? He's 'touched,' his mother says, crossing herself with sharp, quick movements. He's 'cursed,' his father sneers, eyes sliding uneasily off the snake scales that mar one side of Dee's face.

He doesn't know why they're there, any more than he understands why one eye is yellow and the other brown, or why his tongue is forked. It's always been this way. The village leaders once voted on whether or not he should be kicked out. He isn't supposed to know, but he knows that he got to stay only by a tight margin. Very tight.

So he's done. He's _been_ done, if he's perfectly honest with himself. He's done with his mother's scoldings, the way she will grip his ear and drag him home if she catches him even the slightest toe out of place. The way she tears him down, every last inch of self-worth, until he feels like he could disappear beneath the floorboards. In contrast, he almost welcomes his father's bruises, stamping purple and blue into his arms and legs. He wears them like badges of honor.

He feels his fingertips ghost across his scales and firmly yanks his arm down. He's tried to scratch and pry them free often enough, giving himself permanent, reddened scars. A bone sliver of moon lights his way as he finally crosses into the forest, the trees welcoming him with the thin embrace of leaf-studded branches.

_I must find the faerie_ _ring_ , he thinks absently. He knows there is one. He, too, sat on the floor of the school house with the other children (although apart, always apart), when the wizened teacher told them in ponderous words and abrupt gestures what happened to the children taken away by the fae. Death would be the least of his worries, the quickest path taken. 

He can't bring himself to care anymore. He doesn't belong, he knows that as well as he knows his own name. When he came out, bescaled and quiet, 'Dee' was flung at him and to this day, it's stuck. Not a proper name at all, but can he even call himself a proper human? He doesn't think so.

Mushrooms glint in the moonlight, plump and wobbling on thin stalks. Dee rakes the clearing with a glance. They form a lopsided but definite circle. With a quick intake of breath, Dee deliberately steps into the faerie ring.

For a moment, nothing happens, creasing his brow in puzzlement. Then a poisonous green light erupts from everywhere and nowhere at once and Dee can't help but cry out, one hand splayed in front of his eyes as if his fingers can block out the light.

"Well, well, well," a fluting voice giggles. Dee looks up and startles, nearly falling before a thin arm whips around his back and steadies him.

The fae in front of him looks nothing like he envisioned, yet there's no doubt in Dee's mind that is exactly who (and what) he's looking at. Shattered green eyes peek out at Dee, ringed with purple and black. His outfit is old fashioned, black and green, sequins sparkling in the moonlight. To Dee's disquiet, there are rows of what look like baby teeth stitched across the front of his shirt in straggling rows. He's floating a few inches off the ground, bare feet hovering above the grass.

"A human," the fae says, then looks closer. "Or are you?" He muses out loud. Dee flinches.

"I am," he blurts out. "I-"

"You know, I'm not so sure on that," the fae cheerfully advises him. "What pretty scales you have. They must look gorgeous in the sun."

"I hate them," Dee says in a wavering voice. The fae's eyes widen in what looks like genuine surprise. 

"But why?" He asks. "Don't you want to look beautiful? Is that a human thing? I'm not really allowed near humans, but this is _my_ faerie ring, you see, so..." He shrugs delicately.

"Humans don't consider _these_ -" Dee jerks a savage thumb at his scales- "beautiful."

"Humans are terribly misinformed," the fae says. "They're stunning. Perhaps they're just jealous."

"I doubt that," Dee mutters.

"Oh, my manners!" The fae says. He sits cross-legged in the air now. "My name is Remus. What's yours, little human?" He flips upside down as he asks, his teeth vulpine sharp. Dee swallows. He knows what will happen if he tells the truth.

"Dee," he answers. "My name is Dee."

"A lovely name for a lovely man," Remus says, turning right side up again. Green light briefly dazzles Dee again, making him blink furiously.

"This wasn't an accident, was it," Remus says. It isn't a question. Dee shakes his head, his throat tight.

"No," he whispers. "It wasn't." Remus smiles at him. It's a surprisingly soft smile.

"Come with me?" He asks.

"Aren't I- I mean-" Dee stops. Remus waits patiently, watching him. "I have to, don't I?" He finally settles on. Remus shrugs.

"I've never been good at all that," Remus says, frank. "You don't have to come. You can go back there." He nods his head back in the direction Dee had come from, the direction of the village. 

"I don't want to go back there," Dee says, and he knows it's the truth. "I- I want to go with you."

"Then you shall," Remus says. His eyes are very bright as he extends one fine-boned hand.

Slowly, Dee takes it.


End file.
